He was far too gifted, and so, too much a critic to enjoy anything in life. Sometimes discernible, was a flicker of appreciation in his face when he encountered some exquisitely organic curve of a vase, or more palpably, a woman’s figure. Otherwise his every opinion was clouded with subtle disapproval. This, naturally, made him seem unattainable and stoic. In other words, very alluring. His friends consisted of a tall, thin man who obsessively played the piano, a miserable hermit who ate gourmet honey and dwelled in a trailer, and an art student ex- girlfriend who now loved the pianist. Those bitter individuals who loath people in general and are proud of it, often come together comfortably and concede to gloating about their mutual contempt.

She thought herself a Romantic, despite her intolerance of English majors. This kept her on a path of flirtatious one-on-one friendships, experimental drugs, gaudy self-righteousness, and of serial monogamy within modern American Bohemia. She was unintentionally attracted to those who suffered emotionally and thus, surrounded herself with formerly institutionalized provocateurs. This did not bother her, for she also celebrated and reveled in nonconformity.

Such is nature of the sentimental beast. They can see how pretentious it all seems, and enjoy it still because of their ability to recognize it. Few things bring more pleasure to the self-centered libertine than realizations of cyclical coincidences and the “small world” phenomenon. Fate is seductive, no matter how cynical one’s philosophy, and a grand monologue of mental masturbation is sometimes what one needs to get over a dejected ex-boyfriend.